Islands in the Stream

I chuckled and said, "Oh but I HAVE Heather and I have a brand new life now. Better yet, it's completely without YOU" There was an even longer pause. Her tone became seductive, "But lover. I can't live without you. You know that." She probably didn't realize how true her words really were. I had left what remained in the savings and checking accounts. That is, after I had finished paying for my move. But that money would run out in a couple of weeks. And she had nothing to replenish it.

I said matter of fact, "You'll have to get used to it Heather. I am completely out of your life. Now I really have to get back to work." She blurted, "Wait!! Don't hang up!! I really need to talk to you!!?" All of the bravado was gone. She sounded desperate.

I wanted to get this over with. I said, "Let's meet at Jhonny's and we can work out the details of the separation." She said pleadingly, "Can't you come here? I can fix dinner?" I said direly, "I am never going into that house again - especially with YOU in it!!" She said hesitantly, "Okay... Jhonny's... What time?" I said, "Seven o'clock." That would give me a little time to build up my defenses for the coming onslaught.

And Heather didn't disappoint. All conversation halted as she glided in the door. Jhonny's is a neighborhood hang-out. Having a goddess like her suddenly appear in the place had the local yokels staring. She was indeed a spectacular woman. She had her long muscular legs on full display in a very tight scooped little-black-dress. The dress ended four inches above her knees.

She has a cute but unexceptional face. Nevertheless, with all of the beauty tricks that she picked-up over the prior year she could make herself into a movie star. Of course, there was also her full and stunningly supple body. When she had burned off the baby fat she discovered that she had a lithe and very long waist. The contrast with her super-taut flanks and jutting ass made her seem even more voluptuous than she actually was.

Hate isn't the opposite of love. Hate implies feelings for the other person. The absence of love is total indifference. That was what I felt as she approached the table. She had shown me nothing but blatant disrespect. And her condescending attitude prior to her departure had made any residual feelings moot. Now, all I felt was a desire to get this unpleasant chore out of the way.

She actually tried to slide into the booth next to me. I said, "Heather, we can't talk sitting side-by-side and there are a number of serious issues we need to iron out." She gave me a look like I didn't know what I was missing and sat in the opposite seat. It was clear that she thought that she still held all the cards.

I said to be polite, "How are you?" She was going to tell me about her trip. I could see it in her eyes. What she saw in MY eyes changed her mind. Instead she said, like she was trying to reason with me, "Stop pouting baby and come home to the woman who loves you. I told you that you wouldn't regret it. And I am going to work very hard to make it up to you."

Still not getting it...

I had known the woman in sickness and in health, in boring day-to-day household routine and in the throes of passion. And I had loved her for twenty-two long years, without reservation. Now I had nothing left. She had blown-away all of my certainties. I believed in her. I believed in our marriage. I had believed that she loved me. And what I got was a bitch who thought that her spectacular body was a solution to every problem.

I said, "You are just going to have to accept that I am never coming back. So what we need to do is arrange the terms of the separation." She looked skeptical and said, "That's ridiculous. We might have had a little disagreement. But the whole thing is behind us now. I am yours and yours only. And I will be yours forever."

Who was this person???!!

I couldn't keep the incredulity out of my voice as I said, "You call getting fucked for a week a disagreement? That was a carefully planned and barefaced act of betrayal. The Heather I knew was loving and kind. She would never do something like that." I looked somberly at her and said in my most neutral tone, "As far as I'm concerned, the Heather I married doesn't exist. You killed her. And the selfish, vain and manipulative bitch that you replaced her with is no love interest of mine."

Her face registered shock and disbelief. It must have looked a lot like mine when she dropped her Paris adventure on me. She seemed truly confused. I was wandering off script. We were supposed to live happily ever after now. That was what happens in all of the fairy tales. She said, "Look at me. I'm the same person you married - just vastly improved. Haven't you enjoyed the new body that I built for you?"

I said, "I DID until you willingly gave it to somebody else. You fucked Wilkins's brains out last week - didn't you?" She was about to tell me that it didn't matter, that it was just sex. And she loved me, and only me. But there must have been a shred of sanity left in her, because she just stared at me shamefaced and guilty.

I said wearily, "It really doesn't matter. You can fuck whoever you want now. I have no further claim on you. I just need to settle up our account. Then we can go our separate ways." She looked appalled. It was like it had just begun to dawn on her that I was actually serious. She said hastily and with real emotion, "I was faithful to you for twenty-two years. And I will be for the rest of our lives. We share two wonderful kids. How does a week change that?"

Amazing!! There was not one word of apology, or remorse. Heather I hardly knew ye...

Now it was my turn to be condescending. I said, "Really???!! You were willing to be another man's fuck toy for an entire week and you thought I'd just wipe the slate clean?" The discussion was getting pointless... She simply didn't get it.

I said, "Look Heather, I really have to be going. You will need money to live on. So here is how it is going to play-out. I am going to have Jim Edgerton present you with the most equitable separation agreement that we can come up with. I owe it to you for the FIRST twenty-two years."

I added, "It's all spelled out in the agreement. We share equally in all respects. The kids might need student loans to finish. And you are going to have to tone down your lifestyle. But I'm sure that you'll be able to live on what I'm giving you until you get a job." Regrettably, that offer didn't include health club dues...

I looked at her just to ensure that she was listening carefully. I said, "More importantly, we are going to have to sell the house and split the profits from the sale. Neither of us can afford to live there anymore. But fortunately we have a lot of equity. So we can move it at a rock bottom price. And I already have an offer. That will keep us BOTH out of bankruptcy court"

It was beginning to sink in. You could see it. First there was bewilderment. And then there was panic. She looked like she was going to cry as she said, "This can't be happening!! How could you just leave me after so many happy years together? What am I going to do?"

I said, "You are a beautiful woman Heather. I am going to give you the quickest divorce possible. You will have your pick of men. And I know that it won't be long before you hook your next sucker." I wanted her off my books and onto somebody else's - FAST!!

She got herself under control and said, "You make it sound like a business deal. I give some man my body and he takes care of me. Is that what you are suggesting? That sounds a lot like prostitution?" I said, "Ahem... You've already been there and done that. What was Paris after all? You might call it romance. But I call it a sale. So if the shoe fits you might as well put it on."

I stood up. She stood with me. She looked at me pleadingly. And said with true longing in her voice, "Come home Tommy. I miss our happy life together." That was more like the Heather I used to know. And I almost folded. But I remembered what the new and improved version was like. So instead, I said, "You'll get the papers tomorrow." And I walked out of her life.

IN THE LAND OF NOD

The divorce was as tranquil as the scenic coast of Normandy; on the 6th of June, 1944. There was no actual loss of life. But Heather's pet Berserker, who Wilkins had personally paid for, did his best raping and pillaging shtick in court. Heather had finally come to the realization that her gravy train had hit a landmine. And she was absolutely desperate to get as much out of me as she could.

On my side, my buddy Jim was an extremely competent advocate. And my offer was very generous; given that there WAS a highly publicized trip to Paris hanging over the whole proceeding. As far as I was concerned, there was no love for Heather, only a steaming pile of nada. And nada is exactly how I felt - NOTHING. I didn't want to bury her in the back yard. That would have given her far too much of what the Japanese call "face." Instead I just wanted to get the bitch out of my life. I had loved her once. But whoever was inhabiting her body now, was no love interest of mine.

We were in a self-styled, "no-fault" State. But Judges have discretion and it was pretty clear that the guy overseeing our case hated Wilkins; possibly as much as I did. Maybe the esteemed magistrate had lost to the Douchebag in golf, or maybe Wilkins had fucked his wife? At any rate, every ruling that the Judge made came down in our favor. And as a result, Heather got the exact same alimony that I had originally offered.

The fact that we had sold the house simplified matters and probably kept us both out of Chapter-Seven. I had the mordant thought that I had gotten SOMETHING from my 22 years with the bitch. The equity covered all of our unsecured debt and stuck $30,000 in each of our pockets. I figured that would last Heather about three months at her current spend rate. Then she would have to join the rest of us peasants in that dull and boring domain called "reality."

Tommy Jr. and Suzie were at Marquette. Tommy was in his senior year and Suzie was a junior. They were both supported by our college savings trust. So the $30K that I got from the house, added to some reasonably modest Federal grants, assured their completion. Heather had gotten to them first and spun the story in her favor. As a result, both were not pleased with me. Still, they were good kids and I knew that they would eventually come around.

We went our separate ways after the ruling, not without a small pang on my part. I felt a natural sense of loss, thinking about what used to be, and would never be again. Heather and I had been very close once. Nonetheless, I was not going to burn one more synapse trying to understand why my life had changed so radically.

The answer was obvious. Every one of us fights a lifelong battle with fleeting time. I'm human. I age, and I understand the inevitable sense that life is passing you by. Heather's insecurities about getting older, had stomped her better angels into oblivion, and the inevitable outcome was our mutual ruin.

I also knew Heather. And I was convinced that she would have stayed on this side of the line if Wilkins hadn't gone out of his way to drag her over it. Any ex-wallflower would have a hard time saying "no" when she was being hotly pursued by a guy like him. Especially when she contrasted rich, suntanned and suave with middle aged, pasty white and nerdy. So in my mind, Charlie Wilkins had a lot of sins to atone for.

The rest of Heather's justifications were just that - an excuse to scratch the itch. Heather had made herself into a true object of lust. She would be an obvious target for any guy who was lacking in morals, personal integrity and a sense of honor. The fact that she so easily succumbed told me all that I needed to know about her, and the state of our marriage. So, I walked away without any recriminations. But loneliness is still an insidious condition.

~

Heather got married as soon as the divorce was final. It was something that I expected. She really had no other way of supporting herself. There was a twenty-three-year gap in their ages, she being two years younger than me - 42. Old Bud, her new husband, was 65 but he was cut from the same cloth as Charlie Wilkins. Maybe Heather had daddy issues? And now that Viagra is readily available I was sure that she had ways of working them out.

Her new husband was a player in the local political scene; currently holding down our District's seat in Congress. He was also a crony of Wilkins. I learned from the local gossip mill that Old Bud had a reputation for classic political corruption. It probably didn't matter to Heather. She had her sugar daddy and she was in the news a lot, standing by his side looking like the trophy wife that she was.

I nearly retched. That was NOT because I had any lingering feelings for the canoe. It was just such a drastic example of the corrosive influence of ego. My only consolation was the forced smile and the look of utter desperation in her eyes during TV interviews. It was the beaten look of an abused pet. It was delightful to think that there might be trouble in paradise.

She had made her bed and it was gratifying to think that she would be forced to spend the rest of her life lying in it. Maybe Wilkins and his buddy were trading her back and forth, since Old Charlie was definitely NOT getting it at home any more. Or perchance her new husband was using her favors as political capital. Maybe she even had some heartfelt regrets. Thinking about THAT was the gift that kept on giving.

She had indeed tried to reach out a couple of times, just to "see whether we could still be friends." I had treated her calls like any other telemarketer spam and basically ignored them. But the stressed face that I was seeing on the news made me wonder if she was crazy enough to think that there might have been a chance of us getting back together. Like I said, the bitch had been delusional for some time.

Heather's marriage DID free me from the bonds of court enforced penury. And I never suffered from a lack of social life. Any 44-year-old guy who is still reasonably presentable, unmarried and not too gay, is outnumbered by the women in his age group by three-to-one. That's because all of the age appropriate men are busy fucking 20-year-old hotties. So I had my pick of beautiful, elegant and I might add sexually accomplished older ladies.

The problem was that all of my long-term plans and assumptions had been blown up and I was just drifting. The life of the average guy should follow the same time-worn path. You get a good education, meet the girl of your dreams, land a fulfilling job, work hard, have kids, and die in each other's arms. All I had NOW was the job.

~

I had met Heather Smith my senior year at Michigan. I was swimming for them while getting a degree in computer engineering. Computer engineering isn't the bulletin board technology four-year vacation that jocks usually take. And since I had to swim to keep my scholarship I had zero time to socialize.

But, Heather was on the women's team and we crossed paths a lot. That was back in the days before Speedo and TYR took over the competitive swimsuit business. And the super-thin nylon suits that we wore clung to your body in interesting ways.

If you were a guy, the first thing you did when you got out of the water was pull on the front of the suit. Otherwise the crowd got a good idea what you were packing and whether it was circumcised or not. Same with the women and nipples. So, if we were doing any joint work with the women's team most of us guys either stayed in the water, or left our sweats on. Since, walking around on the pool deck with a giant boner can be very embarrassing.

Therefore, I was in my usual position hanging on a lane marker when Heather stepped up on the blocks. I'd never seen her before. But she blew me away. She was medium height, perhaps a little thick in the body. But she had big boobs and man-crushing hips and legs. Her face was not beautiful but the smile she gave her coach was pure sunshine. I was in lust.

She was also my kind of dominant fast. So the University publicity types wanted to take a picture with the two of us together for their program cover. And that's how we started talking. The rest was history. I asked her for coffee, which led to a date, which led to her showing me what a really powerful woman was like, in bed.

The first time we had sex was in my dorm room. My roommate was gone for the weekend and I smuggled her past the coach who occasionally patrolled the halls. She was wearing something that constituted coed chic at the time. I believe they called the look "grunge." That style was a real bonus to the college male population because all of that baggy stuff was easy to remove.

I already knew everything there was to know about her body. Back in those days, it was impossible for a female swimmer to maintain much of her modesty thanks to those clingy suits.

So, the only thing I didn't know about Heather was the color of her aureoles. They turned out to be huge and a very light brown. She was lying back on my narrow dorm-room bed, totally naked, breathing raggedly and looking terrified. I wasn't feeling any more confident. To say that I was inexperienced might be overstating my level of experience.

We kissed and she began to make little moans. I put my hand on one of those big soft pillows and found a nipple. It was hard to miss since it was sticking out about a quarter of an inch. I discovered that it was a darker shade of red-brown. I rolled it between two fingers and the moans turned to loud cries of sheer sensation. I had never been with a woman who made so much noise, and it startled me. So I backed off confused. Was I hurting her? But then I looked in her eyes, which were stoned with lust and realized that she was just that aroused.

So I went back to working my lips on that wonderful hot little nub, while my hand made its way down her rounded stomach toward a pot of boiling lava. I had also never encountered female lubrication like that. Every woman I had ever known to that point, and admittedly there were only a couple of them, required a lot of work to get as wet and hot as Heather already was.

Then I touched her little pink pearl and she let out a loud groan and began bucking frantically against my hand. I had also never witnessed a strong female orgasm and frankly I thought that she was having a seizure. Her eyes rolled up in her head her back arched and she began thrashing around next to me emitting a loud keening ahhh, ahhh, ahhh, ahhhhhhh!! Then she collapsed into some kind of stupor. I truly believed that I should call 911.

I was dithering about what to do when she opened her eyes, fixed me with a gaze that I would later come to call her "fuck-me" stare and said, "Where's the condom. I need you in me NOW!!" I produced the little foil packet. She tore it open with her teeth like a Marine throwing a grenade, rolled it very decisively on me and violently jerked me on top of her. She was one strong girl.

As I mentioned earlier, she was also already hotter and wetter than any female I had ever experienced. So rather than entering her I sort of fell into her right up to the hilt. It wasn't like she was loose or anything. In fact, she was very tight. But she was just that lubricated. She emitted a long moan of pure satisfaction and then we began that age old rhythm.

We both kept our scholarships making the same general motion. It was just that we made it traveling through the water rather than on top of each other. So the bed was literally hopping around on the floor. And the wet slapping noises sounded like pistol shots. She was loudly telling me how good it felt. And constantly shouting agreement, "Yes!! Yes!! Yes!!"